


Same Old Antics

by costumejail



Series: Twitterverse [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: California (Comics)
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Is An Asshole, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Other: See Story Notes, Slut Shaming, Somewhat, Trans Kobra Kid (Danger Days), basically everyone but kobra ghoul and hot chimp are nb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28965294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/costumejail/pseuds/costumejail
Summary: They say first impressions can make or break a relationship.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola & NewsAGoGo (Danger Days), Agent Cherri Cola/Kobra Kid (Danger Days), DJ Hot Chimp/NewsAGoGo (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul & Jet Star & Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Other Background Relationships - Relationship
Series: Twitterverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194071
Comments: 28
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally a prompt from [@ghostxraven](ghostxraven.tumblr.com) and then I just... never stopped thinking about it.

The clap ended with a plasma blast from behind Kobra. It came so close that it singed the shoulder of his jacket, but it did drop the drac that had been charging toward him.

“Pois,” Kobra turned to tell his sibling that he had had the situation under control. “I was on top of i—”

Party was on the ground. A… stranger stood above him. One arm, long tangled hair, waveriding scars mottling what skin was visible. They spun their ray gun before putting it in its holster, then stepped over Party with a sneer.

“What? No ‘thank you’?”

“Who the fuck are you,” demanded Kobra. “What did you do to my s—”

“Party Poison’ll be fine. They got in my way.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” the stranger was chest-to-chest with Kobra now, radiating an aura that made him want to _back the fuck up._ “That he got in my way.”

“What did you do to him?”

“No worse than I could do to you,” reasoned the stranger. “Now, move. You’re in my way.”

Kobra wasn’t interested in playing whatever game this wavehead was leading toward. He needed to check that Party was okay, he needed to call the rest of the crew. He took a step back to get out of the stranger’s ‘way’, but they got right back in his space.

“You gonna let me move?”

“You could try.” The stranger’s voice was low and rough, not quite lining up with the movement of their lips.

Kobra shrugged, thought _what the hell_ , and punched the stranger. 

They recoiled, holding their nose, then reared back forward and headbutted Kobra. His glasses shattered and the sudden sunlight was a knife to his senses. Before he could even begin to adjust, a warm body crashed into him, tackling him to the sand. Blindly, Kobra fought back, but the stranger was faster than they seemed and weighed way more than any wavehead had a right to. Within a minute, Kobra was pinned, both wrists twisted in the stranger’s grip and scraping against the sand above his head.

“That wasn’t very nice,” growled the stranger. They leaned down to whisper in Kobra’s ear. “You aren’t making a good first impression.”

“Neither are you, asshole,” bit Kobra. He tried in vain to throw the stranger off, but their weight was settled firmly over his hips and their grip was iron. “What do you even fucking want?”

“I wanted to meet the famous Kobra Kid,” they replied. There was a laugh barely hidden in their words. “Didn’t live up to the reputation.”

The stranger was still inches from Kobra’s face, sweat tracks clearly visible in the dirt smeared across their face. Adrenaline pounded in Kobra’s veins, anger at whatever they’d done to Party and embarrassment at being so easily overpowered and— The stranger shifted, forcing Kobra to close his eyes and bite his lip to keep in a moan.

“Oh, so that part was true.”

Kobra opened his eyes to the stranger smirking down at him. He knew what the stranger meant and he wanted to punch their lights out. 

But Kobra had already tried that and it didn’t go well.

So he thought, _fuck it_ and went for the alternative. He arched up and kissed them. 

Their lips were rough and they bit at his tongue and the grip they had on his wrists went so tight he thought they might break. But it did what Kobra needed it to. The stranger pulled back, gasping, and it was enough of an opening for Kobra to flip them over and get to his feet. He planted a foot on the stranger’s ribcage and held them there for a minute.

“Fuck you, if you touch my sibling again I’ll skin you alive. Got it?”

“Ooh, I’m real scared.”

“Cherri!” Another voice joined the conversation, but it wasn’t Party’s. “I’m good, let’s go!”

Kobra looked up, squinting through the sun to see a short _someone_ with pink hair on a bike. 

Cherri — fucking _Cherri Cola_ — took advantage of Kobra’s distraction to sweep his other leg out from under him. It was on its feet before Kobra hit the ground, jumping over him and rushing to the bike that its accomplice was revving. Kobra watched from the ground as they took off in a cloud of dust.

He groaned as he got back to his feet, his head sore from smacking it against the ground. Party groaned, too, as Kobra got closer. They blinked awake and looked up at him.

“Kobes? What happened?”

Well, at least Party hadn’t seen any of what Kobra did.

“Hit your head,” he half-lied. “C’mon, I’ll drive.”

They got into the Trans Am, both moving a little tenderly. As Party called the rest of their crew, relaying the spoils from the shipment they’d intercepted and the results of the clap that had followed, Kobra fit the key into the ignition and twisted it.

The engine sputtered, turned over, and died. 

“What the—”

He tried again, to similar results.

Kobra scanned the dashboard, trying to see if he was missing someth— The gas gauge pointed to empty. Cherri’s accomplice must have siphoned their gas while they’d been… fighting.

 _Fucking_ Cherri Cola.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for smoking, addiction (waveriding), and violence

At their hideout, unloading what zie’d managed to nab out of the killjoys’ trunk, NewsAGoGo brought up what Cherri was hoping zie’d ignore.

“Y’know,” Zie grunted, hefting hir backpack onto the counter. “When I said ‘distract him’ I didn’t mean stick your tongue down his throat.”

Cherri didn’t reply, it pulled its raygun from its holster, checked the charge, and reached around for the other one. Both were still close to full, and then Cherri had no excuse not to meet its sister’s eyes.

“I distracted him, didn’t I?”

Newsie stared it down, unimpressed.

“It’s the Kobra Kid, it was 80 percent his idea and I’m surprised he didn’t try to go further.”

“Don’t be a dick, Cher. Help me with this.”

Fine with letting the conversation drop, Cherri helped Newsie unpack hir spoils. Zie’d gotten an assortment of weapons and batteries, a few blankets, a green vest, and some kind of kid’s toy.

“Fuck they got this for?” It wondered. The toy, a robot, lit up and started buzzing.

“Shut that shit off,” snapped Newsie. Zie tossed the backpack toward Cherri and it barely dodged. “Fuckin’ annoying.”

“Just sayin’. Wanted terrorists dragging around a toy?”

“Probably stole it, too. You think they’ll come for any ‘f it?”

Cherri looked over what they’d stolen. Not an impressive haul, but they’d still managed to put gas in the tank of Newsie’s bike, and it had been wondering if the Kobra Kid’s reputation matched the man.

“We’ll see.”

With that, Newsie nodded. Zie snatched hir radio off the counter and vanished toward hir room.

Probably a broadcast going out, zie rarely missed DJ Hot Chimp’s shows.

It wasn’t interesting to Cherri. The run, a circle tour of Zone 5, had been faster than expected and the sun was still high in the sky. Cherri could hear Her call. Its holsters clicked gently as it set them on the counter, next to the robot. At the door, it paused to grab a hat, then stepped out into the blazing afternoon heat.

It took less than a minute for Cherri to go boneless under the sun’s rays. The very brim of its hat covered its eyes, but its arms, chest, shoulders were unhidden. Heat sank into its bones, a familiar itch dancing across its skin as high above, the sun beat down on Cherri.

Time stopped passing, Cherri’s senses dulled as a haze of white settled over it. Distantly, it heard lizards scuttle past, a bird overhead, the barest rustling of bushes above the entrance to its and Newsie’s hideout. The sounds pulsed through Cherri’s vision, abstract lines and waves that it ignored easily. The breeze wasn’t enough to lift the scorching grip that the sun had Cherri in. It melted, became one with the sand and the sun. It stopped thinking in words or in pictures and sank deeper and deeper into a stupor.

Some time later, once Cherri’s lips were dry and cracked, a car engine got louder. Without opening its eyes, it saw it first, then heard it, then the car came so close it thought it might get run over. The car stopped, Cherri’s vision going blessedly still. 

It didn’t bother to move when footsteps emerged, nor when something pushed at its hip.

“Fuckin’ wavie,” growled a voice.

Cherri heard them pull their foot back and flashed its hand out. It caught the boot headed toward its ribs in an iron grip. A smile carved across its face, pulling at the newest sunburn.

“I’d go inside, get my shit, and leave. If I were you.”

The person stumbled back when Cherri let go of their foot. It heard sand crunch up to the door, then it swung shut with a clang.

The sun pulled it under again, it stayed near the surface, though, waiting for something dire enough to necessitate it dragging itself inside. A clang and a muffled shout weren’t enough, but it heard Newsie scream curses and that got it to its feet. Before Cherri got to the door, it slammed open, and a massive rock ‘n roller emerged, Newsie hot on their heels.

Cherri pivoted, waited for the roller to come close enough, and then launched itself at them. They put up a fight, but their grip was slick with sweat and Cherri easily avoided their hands going for its throat. By the time Newsie caught up, Cherri had the roller pinned while they struggled in vain. Newsie flashed a knife out of one of hir sheaths and held it to the roller’s throat.

They froze.

“Now,” smiled Newsie, hir voice silky-smooth and sharp as a razor. “I think you forgot to pay.”

“You stole it! It’s my shit,” insisted the roller. 

“Funny, dearest, it was in _my_ house. Makes it mine.” Newsie traced hir knife a little higher up the roller’s throat, not quite cutting into the skin.

“Fuck you.”

“Bold words,” murmured Cherri. It shifted its weight back, then pulled the roller’s jacket open and dug through their pockets.

A knife, a raygun with a dead battery, a crumpled ticket to a Bad Words! Concert.

It shot a glance at Newsie, “What’d they take?”

“The jacket,” zie explained. “Y’didn’t see they weren’t wearin’ it when they came in?”

“Was busy.”

“Alright,” declared Newsie. “You’re new here, I’ll tell you how it goes. You try to steal our stuff again, I gut you like a drac. Ten carbs for the jacket, five for the gun, and five for makin’ me run.”

“I don’t have twenty carbons,” the roller replied, their voice strained from the angle they held their neck at the keep away from Newsie’s blade.

A bright bead of blood emerged where Newsie pressed hir blade in harder.

“Then either you take the jacket off now, or I take it off your corpse.”

Sweat dripped down the back of Cherri’s neck. It twitched. This was taking longer than usual and was getting lightheaded. Too much exertion too soon after drifting. It blinked, and the roller was rummaging in their pockets, right under Cherri’s knee.

“Here,” they spilled a handful of carbons over the sand. “Keep the gun.”

For a moment, Newsie bent hir head, counting under hir breath. Then zie raised hir head and nodded. “Good. Cherri, get off ‘em.”

Cherri rolled off to the side, and the roller sat up. It lost interest quickly, flattening itself out under the sun and closing its eyes. It let the radiation soak in, half an ear trained on the exchange going on between its sister and hir customer. Its mind’s eye summoned up coins and hands, the rustle of leather, Newsie’s sharply raised eyebrow when zie said, “Leave the knife.”

A dull thud told Cherri that the roller obeyed without question.

Then footsteps crunched away and a car engine started up. Newsie didn’t move until the roar of the vehicle faded away, then zie made hir way over to Cherri. The red glow behind its eyelids faded as Newsie dropped its hat onto its face.

“I liked that jacket. Should’ve made him leave it,’ it complained.

“Don’t fry too long,” replied Newsie dryly.

The door opened, then closed, and Cherri was alone with the sun.

The world deepened into nothing, Cherri revelled in the way its skin turned crispy as colours started pulsing under its eyelids. Spirals, waves, droplets, all appeared and vanished with Cherri’s heartbeat. It didn’t move when the sun set, slowly sliding into the comedown that the end of a day always brought.

Eventually, though, the cold seeped into its bones. Joints creaked as it got to its feet and the first burn of the sun had already faded, replaced with flashing heat and the sting of its collar rubbing against its flaking, raw neck. A candle was lit on the counter inside the hideout, next to a bottle of water and half a protein bar. Slowly, Cherri sat on the counter, pulling its legs up, holding the bottle between them to unscrew it. It alternated between sips of water and bites of the bar until both were gone, then carried the candle to its room.

Moonlight filtered through the window, combining with the candlelight to give Cherri enough light to navigate piles of torn and dirty clothes until it reached the bare mattress in the corner. It dropped onto it, putting the candle on the floor to tug its boots off. Its jeans joined them in a pile, then its shirt did too.

Even with the moonlight, once Cherri blew the candle out, the room might as well have been pitch black.

Rough and flaky, its shoulders caught on the mattress as Cherri rolled over. It pillowed its head on its arms, closed its eyes, and dropped off to sleep.

* * *

“I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t shut up about it.”

Gleeful, Ghoul wasn’t deterred by Kobra’s threat. “Swindled by Cherri _fuckin’_ Cola! Welcome t’ the desert, babysnakes.”

Half-heartedly, Kobra threw a punch at Ghoul, but he easily ducked out of the way and popped up on his other side.

“How was it? ‘S faster than it looks, right? It go for a smash ‘n grab or did you think you had th’ upper hand right up ‘til it made off with your gas?”

“ _It_ didn’t do anything,” huffed Kobra. He opened the Trans Am’s trunk and bent down, digging through piles of scrap. “Knocked Pois out an’ kept me distracted while its little friend nabbed our gas. Don’t tell Pois, by the way.”

“Little friend?”

“Short, pink hair, didn’t get a good look. They were kinda movin’ fast on a bike filled with _our_ gas.”

“Oh, Newsie! Haven’t seen that bastard in _years_ , how’d zie look?”

“You could be less affectionate about the people that siphoned our gas, y'know,” Kobra pointed out. He dug through the trunk faster, shoving aside an empty water jug. “You should pay for the next tank, if you’re this happy about it. Fuck, swear I left it in here,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah…” Ghoul ignored Kobra’s searching. “S’more fun t’ get ya riled up though. Can’t believe you’ve been out here a quarter of your life and you ain’t met Cherri yet.”

“Heard of it, not eager to meet it again.”

“So how’d it go? Gimme the play-by-play.”

“Can you fucking help me look? Pois’s gonna be pissed if we don’t find it ‘fore they wake up.”

Lounging against the bumper, Ghoul tilted his head to the side. “You look like you’re on top ‘f it. So c’mon, what happened?”

“Knocked out Pois, nearly shot me, then took me down and ran. You called ‘em Newsie?”

“NewsAGoGo, zie ‘n hir.”

“Right, zie was taking our gas and when zie called it hit the red line. Fuck!”

“Can’t find it?”

“No! I swear I had it in here and they’ve been in such a bad mood without it and Pois’s gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“Jet’s gonna kill you, they’re th’ one that bought it.”

“Well, fuck.” Kobra slammed the trunk shut, barely missing Ghoul’s fingers. “I’m going to smoke. You tell ‘em I couldn’t find it and you didn’t help.”

“Fuck no!” Jumping at Kobra, Ghoul scrambled up onto his back. “We go t’gether or we don’t at all.”

“Get your asses in here.” The front door crashed open and Poison emerged, a very disgruntled-looking two year old on his hip. “You find it?”

Kobra felt Ghoul press his forehead to the back of his neck and rolled his eyes.

“No.”

From the Trans Am, Kobra could barely make out the kid asking, “No ‘obot?”

“No robot,” confirmed Party.

Instantly, the kid screwed their face up. They didn’t wail but sniffled and buried their face in Party’s shoulder.

“I know, baby,” murmured Poison. “We’ll find it.” They glared daggers over their shoulder as they turned back into the diner. “How about a snack, huh? We’ve got _peaches_. You want some peaches?”

“Thanks for that,” grumbled Kobra while Ghoul smacked a kiss to his cheek and slid off of his back.

Ghoul tucked his fingers into Kobra’s belt loop and tugged him toward the diner. Inside, Poison and the kid had vanished to the kitchen, the sounds of Poison trying to perk them up mingling with sniffles from the disappointed toddler. Curled up in a booth, Jet was modifying a raygun, periodically taking shots at a scorched patch of the wall.

They didn’t put the gun down when they turned to welcome Ghoul and Kobra.

“You lost the robot.”

Kobra bristled. “I swear, it was in the trunk. I saw it yesterday when I was loading up for the run.”

All of a sudden, Ghoul let out a cackle.

“Fuck do you want?”

“You don’t—” More laughter. “You don’ think a certain someone stole it?”

“Who?” Jet asked, suspicious.

“Oh, I’ll let Kobes tell that one,” laughed Ghoul. He slapped Kobra on the shoulder, dodged his elbow, then pranced to the kitchen. “‘M gonna help feed the monster.”

“Who does Ghoul think stole the robot?”

Jet idly gesturing at Kobra with a gun in their grip wasn’t encouraging, but he followed their pointing and slumped into the booth across from them. He dug through his pockets for a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out and holding it by the very tip of the filter.

“Light me up?”

Taking careful aim, Jet fired their gun at the tip of the stick and it caught. Kobra took a deep inhale, held it for a second, and blew smoke straight at Jet’s face.

“Dickhead,” they muttered, waving the smoke away.

As Jet bent to tinker with something in the grip of the ray gun, Kobra smoked languidly. He tipped his head back and watched the smoke rise up, hit the ceiling, and disperse. He tapped ash onto the floor.

“Make sure you sweep that shit up, kid’s mobile as fuck now.”

Kobra hummed, nodding slightly.

“Speaking of,” Jet shot a meaningful look at Kobra. “Who does Ghoul think took the robot?”

Another long drag, the smoke got in Kobra’s eyes and he blinked fast behind his sunglasses. Jet didn’t drop their gaze, though, so Kobra stubbed the stick out and kicked his feet up in their lap under the table.

“You know Cherri Cola?”

* * *

With one hand on the door, a knife thudded into the doorjamb and Cherri froze.

“Don’t get high yet, got a deal rollin’ in,” its sister informed it.

“Not my problem,” replied Cherri. It opened the door, taking a step forward before finding Newsie in its way, another knife now poised right between two of its ribs. Half a smile lifted the corner of its mouth, “You nervous or somethin’?”

“Want you inside for this one.”

“How long’s it gonna take?”

“Should be quick enough, you don’t have t’ talk, just want you behind the counter and _staying_ behind the counter.”

Cherri pretended to think. Newsie wasn’t nervous, zie didn’t get nervous. Cherri had seen hir take on whole crews where everyone easily had a full head on hir and come out without a scratch, barely even having broken a sweat.

But zie clearly wanted it inside for this trade.

“When do they get here?”

“Doc said early, y’wont miss Her for that long.”

“Doc sent them?”

Newsie leaned hir back against the door, pulling the knob from Cherri’s hands as it shut. Zie nodded, “Doc sent ‘em.”

“I’ll stay in.”

Something like relief crossed Newsie’s face, then hir expression went blank.

“Take a nap or something, shouldn’t be that long of a deal.”

So Cherri lay on the half-shredded couch behind the counter, propped its hat over its face, and pretended that it was under the sun instead of inside. It was almost able to get the same haze, the same stupor, but that shattered when the door crashed open and three sets of footsteps entered.

* * *

“C’mon, dipshit, y’gotta be civil for like, thirty seconds,” Ghoul grinned, obviously keyed in to Kobra’s displeasure at the whole situation.

“I’m gonna shoot it. I’ll shoot both of them,” warned Kobra.

“No,” cut in Jet. “You won’t. We’re gonna go in, smile politely, and get our shit back.”

“Like the Zones wouldn’t be better off without the pair of thieving bastards?”

Jet nodded, “Uh-huh. Same could be said for you, Kid.”

“Kick rocks.”

Ghoul laced his fingers through Kobra’s, squeezing just a bit too hard to be called reassuring. “Think of it as a scouting trip, you still wanna kill them in half a moon or whatever, at least you got the lay of the land.”

“I’m not going in,” Party finally cut in. “I’ll watch the kid, watch the car, and _not_ get my ass handed to me, apparently.”

Party didn’t have the full story and had thrown a bit of a hissy fit when Kobra finally told him that he hadn’t been randomly knocked out during the clap a few days earlier. He bitched and moaned for the better part of a day that Kobra had lied, although he hadn’t, then grudgingly accepted an apology. He didn’t know, of course, why Kobra had his own reason to not want to come face-to-face with Cherri Cola.

So they’d put their foot down, and declared that they wouldn’t go inside NewsAGoGo and Cherri Cola’s hideout to see if they’d taken the kid’s toy robot.

“I’ll wait out here with you.”

“Also no,” Jet decided. “You said just the one took both of you out?”

Kobra nodded, “Kind of.”

“Great, I’m not going in with equal numbers then, in case it gets messy.”

“I hate you,” Kobra replied. “Did you know?”

Ghoul started moving, still clutching Kobra’s hand. “C’mon, Kobes, faster we get it started, faster it’s over.” He tugged Kobra down to his level once they were out of earshot of the Trans Am, “You can tie me up if you get through this without a fight.”

Not even bothering to protest anymore, Kobra let himself get dragged inside the hideout, a door carved into a cliff face opening to a dark, cramped, and dirty space. Inside, NewsAGoGo stood — short as zie was, Kobra assumed zie was standing — behind a cluttered countertop. Kobra took his sunglasses off, the room was dark enough that he could, and tried to subtly glance around the room. A hallway led off to one side, parallel to the cliff face. At first, Kobra thought his bitching had been for nothing, then he realized that the pile of clothes on the couch behind NewsAGoGo wasn’t a pile of clothes.

Cherri Cola lay on its back on the torn cushions, a wide-brimmed hat over its face. Kobra fought the urge to make some noise, catch its attention. The more sensible part of him knew he had a motivation to not cause problems during the trade, and that part won out. He leaned back against the wall, slid his sunglasses back on, and settled in to wait.

No one else made any moves, though the pink-haired killjoy was giving Kobra a curious look. 

Ghoul broke the silence. “We hear y’all might know something about a robot?”

NewsAGoGo slid hir gaze away from Kobra and he stopped itching for the knife in his boot.

“I might,” zie nodded. “You lose something?”

“Not sure I’d say we lost it, but we shit-sure don’ have it in _our_ possession anymore.”

“Toy robot. Boxy, silver, buzzes when you press its buttons,” specified Jet. “Last time we saw it was before a run to Five a few days back.”

Something teasing was in NewsAGoGo’s smile, “Think we were in the area.”

A derisive snort escaped Kobra before he could help himself.

In unison, Jet and Ghoul pivoted to glare at him. Kobra shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, not saying anything, not starting a fight.

“Aw, fuck,” NewsAGoGo clapped a hand to hir forehead. “I’m forgettin’ my manners. I’m Newsie, zie and hir. You are?”

“Jet Star, they/them. This’s Fun Ghoul, he/him.”

“Oh! Like the ‘Fabulous Killjoys’, ‘Fab Four’ Jet Star and Fun Ghoul?”

“That’s us,” Jet confirmed quickly.

“And who’s your friend?” NewsAGoGo’s voice turned sly.

Kobra glared down at hir.

“Kobra Kid, he n’ him. He’s still workin’ on his manners.” The look Ghoul shot over his shoulder was a warning. “Ignore him.”

“Nice t’ meet you, _Kobra Kid_ ,” Newsie exclaimed. “You talk for yourself, or just do other things with that mouth?”

Kobra was at the counter instantly, a knife in his hand and headed for Newsie’s throat. Zie moved faster, pulling a knife from a sheath at zir wrist and pressing it to Kobra’s stomach. Neither of them moved, blades on edge at each other’s skin. Kobra’s eyes were locked on Newsie’s and he could swear zie was seeing through his sunglasses. 

He didn’t see any movement from the corner of his eye, but the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking echoed through the small room, followed by the gravel tone of Cherri Cola’s voice.

“So eager for a second round there, sweet tooth?”

* * *

The hideout was silent as Cherri sat up, it tipped its hat back onto its head and surveyed the room. Over the counter, Newsie and the Kobra Kid were locked in a dangerous embrace, knives poised to cut through flesh and muscle. Behind the Kobra Kid, Cherri recognized Fun Ghoul and Jet Star vaguely, both frozen with their hands on their rayguns.

No one looked at Cherri as it stood, but it kicked a chair as it rounded the counter, raygun in hand, and Jet Star and Fun Ghoul both flinched.

“You’re about as good at negotiating as you are at hand-to-hand,” observed Cherri.

“Say we step outside and see if that wasn’t just beginner’s luck?” The Kobra Kid countered.

“Say you put the knife down before I burn a hole in your throat? You’re not the only one with a sibling they don’t want people touching.”

Newsie laughed, “You think he’s that much ‘f a threat, Cher?”

“Think he’s gettin’ in the way of a deal, and it’d be a real shame if he was th’ reason his crew leaves empty-handed.”

No one moved.

“Kobes,” Fun Ghoul spoke slowly. “How ‘bout you go wait in the car?”

“What happened to not going in on equal footing?” Snapped the Kobra Kid. He didn’t look away from Newsie the entire time, and Cherri could see his knuckles go white on the handle.

“I’ll keep you company,” it offered.

Cherri nearly laughed at the panicked looks that Fun Ghoul and Jet Star exchanged.

“Not happening,” Newsie spoke first. “You ‘n me can go get some air, Kid, and we’ll let the grown-ups finish in here.”

Another iron silence filled the air, then the Kobra Kid sheathed his knife and rolled his shoulders.

“Fine.”

Visibly, the Kobra Kid’s crewmates exhaled, Newsie put hir own knife away and hopped the counter, lacing hir arm through Kobra’s in the instant before he brushed hir off and started for the door. Jet Star stepped to the side to let them out, and Ghoul moved toward the counter as the door swung shut.

“‘S been a while, Cola,” Fun Ghoul tried for a grin. “Y’look good.”

Cherri ignored the obvious once-over Ghoul gave it, finally putting its ray gun back in its holster.

“You need something?”

* * *

“What kind ‘f a crew needs a toy robot so bad you’d stab someone for it?” NewsAGoGo started talking as soon as the door swung shut.

“What kind of killjoy steals a toy robot out of someone’s trunk?”

“Bold accusation.”

“I have eyes,” replied Kobra. He set off toward the Trans Am, Party and the kid not visible through the glare off the windows.

“Hey!” NewsAGoGo called. “Not keeping me company?”

Kobra didn’t turn to reply, “Enjoy the sun, try not to get too attached to it.” He paced toward the car, seeing that Party was reclined in the driver’s seat, the kid asleep in his arms. He arched an eyebrow when Kobra let himself into the passenger’s seat.

“Trade already over?”

Kobra reclined his seat back, gazing up through the sunroof.

“Got sent outside.”

Party’s voice was teasing, “Y’throw a temper tantrum?”

“NewsAGoGo was asking to see my knife.”

“Oh,” they yawned. “‘F course.”

* * *

Trade over and done with, Newsie came back inside once Jet Star and Fun Ghoul left, clutching their toy robot and a box of weapons that they’d let go of a pretty number of carbons for. Zie met Cherri at the door, leaning back against it the same way zie had that morning.

“Nice diplomacy,” zie laughed. “S’no wonder you’re so popular.”

“Eat shit,” Cherri pushed past hir, itching to feel the sun on its skin, forget about having to deal with the Kobra Kid.

“Have a nice high.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is currently unfinished so don't expect a regular update schedule, I just wanted to put part of it out there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is porn, additional warnings for BDSM overtones, (more) implied slut-shaming, and waveriding.

Kobra slammed Ghoul back into the wall, stumbling after him. Ghoul’s fingers were tucked through his belt loops, pulling Kobra tight against his front. Every movement rushed, they kissed frantically, clashing teeth and panting. Kobra bent down to undo Ghoul’s belt buckle and fly, then wrapped his hands under Ghoul’s thighs and lifted him up.

“You’re so fuckin’ eager,” gasped Ghoul as he tightened his legs around Kobra’s hips.

Kobra ignored him, bending down to bite at Ghoul’s collarbone. He pushed his vest open more with one hand, exposing scarred skin and a flush darkening Ghoul’s chest. Dark marks bloomed in a ring around the base of Ghoul’s throat while Ghoul worked his hands under Kobra’s shirt and dragged his nails down his back. A shudder wracked Kobra’s body, he pushed back from the wall, carrying Ghoul to the bed and dropping him onto it.

“Don’t move,” Kobra ordered.

“Why not? What’re—”

Ghoul cut off when Kobra kissed him hard, then stuck two fingers into his mouth and held it open.

“Don’t move,” he hissed.

Satisfied with Ghoul’s nod, Kobra left him there. He cracked the door open and yelled down the hall, “Yinz should go for a drive,” then shut the door again and turned. He dug through a pile of clothes on a chair in the corner of the room, unearthing a bag that he carried to the bed.

“Hey, no,” protested Ghoul. “I said if you didn’t get in a fight, and last I checked, pulling a knife on a trader counts as—”

“Then I’ll go fuck someone else,” snapped Kobra. “And you can get off by yourself.”

That shut Ghoul up. 

Kobra sat on the edge of the bed, took a breath, and checked in quickly. “I’m putting a gag in and tying your arms back. You can tap out when you want but I’m gonna ride you and if you’re good I’ll blow you.”

Ghoul nodded.

“Take your clothes off.”

While Ghoul was doing that, Kobra double-checked that Party, Jet, and the kid _had_ actually gone for a drive. The coast seemed clear and by the time he returned to the bed, Ghoul was naked, twisting his braids up into a pair of buns.

“Ready?” Asked Kobra.

“Ready.”

Kobra dug through the bag, grabbing a ring gag and a length of rope. He prodded Ghoul into turning around and putting his arms together, then tied them in place, quickly looping and knotting the rope from wrists to elbows. For good measure, Kobra wrapped the rope around Ghoul‘s chest twice, keeping his arms tight to his ribcage. 

Again, Kobra checked in, “Comfortable?”

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

“Open your mouth.”

Eyes dark, Ghoul did, letting Kobra fit the gag in and buckle it at the back of his head. He rolled his shoulders, rocked his head from side to side, then nodded. Kobra leaned up to kiss Ghoul again, biting at his lip and grinning wickedly when Ghoul groaned.

Naked, Ghoul’s arousal was obvious, cock standing straight up from his crotch and leaving shiny traces against his stomach. Kobra took it in hand, squeezing hard before loosening his grip to stroke Ghoul’s length.

With the gag holding Ghoul’s mouth open, he couldn’t stifle his moans, especially not when Kobra stuck two fingers through the gag. Immediately, Ghoul started licking Kobra’s fingers, swirling his tongue around them and doing his best to suck despite the ring. Kobra let him for a moment, dropping Ghoul’s cock to drag his nails over his stomach and thighs.

When Ghoul rolled his hips up, Kobra pulled his hands back and shed his own clothes. He returned to straddle Ghoul’s thighs, biting at his earlobe while they rocked together. One hand rested on Ghoul’s shoulder, steadying himself, while the other dipped between their bodies. First, Kobra spat onto it and stroked Ghoul’s cock, then he let go, laughing at Ghoul’s disappointed whine. Kobra rubbed his clit gently, then slid his hand down further and pressed a finger into himself.

Ghoul sucked in a breath, dropping his gaze to watch Kobra work himself open. A second finger joined the first quickly, then a third. Kobra panted, scissoring his fingers as he sent waves of pleasure up his spine. Below him, Ghoul kept rocking up, his cock barely glancing off of Kobra’s knuckles. He groaned and dropped his head forward, against Kobra’s chest.

While Ghoul nosed across Kobra’s collarbone, Kobra leaned up. He kept fingering himself, eyes rolling back a bit when Ghoul pressed his open mouth to his chest. Hot breath rolled across Kobra’s skin, and he wasn’t sure if it was sweat or spit that was dripping down his sternum. Then Kobra took a loose handful of Ghoul’s hair and pulled him back.

Ghoul’s eyes were glassy, lips slick with drool and cheeks dark.

“Enjoying yourself?” Teased Kobra.

In response, Ghoul moaned. He nodded as much as he could with Kobra holding him in place.

“I figured,” Kobra laughed. “Fuckin’ easy, aren’t you?”

For a moment, Kobra recalled someone implying something similar about him. He shook his head, returning to his crewmate, hard and eager beneath him. Reaching around Ghoul, Kobra propped their pillows against the headboard. He made sure they were lined up properly, then he grabbed the ropes running around Ghoul’s chest, pushing until he leaned back. One last time, Kobra stroked Ghoul’s length, making sure it was slick enough. Then he pushed up on his knees, steadied Ghoul’s cock with one hand, and sank onto it.

* * *

The sun sank below the horizon and the familiar slide to sobriety started, but a different itch, a mix of anger and something else, was in Cherri’s veins now and it rolled to its feet far sooner than it should have. It stumbled to the door, crashing through and into the hideout.

Newsie was sat on the couch, one leg up along the back of it and the other stretched along the cushions. “Fuck’s wrong with you?”

Cherri didn’t reply, it slammed into the wall and dragged itself to its room. There was enough light coming through the window for it to find its way to the bed, already kicking its boots off. It fumbled for its belt buckle, dropping both holsters unceremoniously. As it collapsed onto the mattress, it finally managed to get its fly down and its hand into its underwear.

It hissed, the skin of its hand rough against its cock. With a bit of kicking, it got its jeans out of the way and it was free to push its boxers down too. Unbidden arousal slammed over it in waves while it spat into its hand. Free from its clothes, Cherri’s cock bobbed against its stomach, harder than it had any right being. Still, it didn’t bother thinking about the why of the situation, eyes rolling back in its head as it got its hand back on its cock.

Rapidly, it stroked itself, gripping hard and curling its toes. White heat pulsed through its veins, in time with its racing heartbeat and the roar of blood in its ears. It stifled a gasp, slowing its hand for a moment to swipe its thumb over the head of its cock. Already, it was leaking from the tip, encouraging a slide that was that much smoother while it worked its hand on its length.

The last of Cherri’s high faded, replaced with a rush of adrenaline as it jacked itself off. It closed its eyes, not that they were doing much in the rapidly-dimming light, biting down on its own lip hard enough to draw blood. Unbidden, it started to thrust up into its hand, instincts taking over the longer Cherri touched itself.

Its arm muscles seized, having started too fast after a long day of waveriding, so it slowed down. It tightened its grip and let its hips twitch and kept stroking, just fast enough to keep adding to the tightness building in the bottom of its stomach. Cherri pushed its head to the side, working its jaw and gasping for breath. 

The orgasm snuck up on it, one moment fisting its cock as fast as it could, the next spilling over its hand with a moan that it barely muffled. Cherri bit down hard on the inside of its cheek, milking out the last bits of pleasure.

It melted into the mattress, staring unseeingly at the ceiling above it. 

When it felt like it could move enough to, it tugged its shirt off and wiped traces of come off of its own stomach and thighs, then dropped the shirt to the floor.

Cherri rolled over, post-orgasm tiredness washing over itself. Its softening cock chafed against the mattress and it wiggled just enough to be comfortable, then closed its eyes resolutely and ignored the thoughts of blond hair and sunglasses filling its mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
